Heroes:Age of Loneliness
by LadyBozi
Summary: PAIRE. AU within an AU story. NONCANON. 15 years into the future,Peter lives in a world where a cheerleader wasn’t saved. He attempts to change the past but instead travels to a parallel reality, where a cheerleader was saved.Can he save them or fail?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to Jayne for being my BETA! You are awesome. Please don't leave me rude comment. I made Peter and Claire not related; however, this adds to the story line—not just because I wanted to get them together.

If you guys want to read this story with music go here Just without the spaces. Promise it's better-- http:// ladybozi. livejournal. com/ 28802. html#cutid1

His warm breath broke the crisp air that lingered in the old, overpopulated graveyard.

Bloodshot eyes burned as he stood before her grave. Everything around him seemed to stand still yet sway all in one motion. The pitiless night sky blanketed the hallow grounds, leaving only his silhouette visible against the moonshine.

He took a gentle step forward and placed a single crimson rose on her once fresh grave mound. Uneasiness took him as he stepped back on the soft ground, chills crawling up his spine. The frosty wind swept him up, bitterly unwelcoming him as he took deep breaths of it in. The haunting silence didn't help steady his beating heart as it jumped out of his skin and unknowingly dripped onto the grave before him.

He came to serenade her, to pour his heart out for another more year. Constantly blaming himself for her death, the overpowering sight of her grave always managing to drive him back here and bring his guilt rearing its ugly head once again.

Just like every other year on this day, he came to try to hide his blame along with her body, but he was always left more powerfully haunted then before.

"I understand I have no right to be here," he paused to take a heavy gasp into his shriveled wind pipe.

"But I came to pay my respect," he atoned as if explaining his actions to the wind itself, "I swear if I could make a deal with God to trade places with you I would." It was the same thing he said to her every year. The same exact words; however, over time the passion behind his reason was swept away with the same wind that surrounded him.

The howling current of air didn't subside, instead it continued to pound upon his chest, thrashing and pushing him away. Everyday he reminded himself that if he could turn back time he would, and he would go back on this same exact day, fifteen long years ago and save the cheerleader. It wasn't as if he hadn't already attempted to undo the past; in fact, he tried to fix it many times, but nothing was altered.

She was still dead and he was still a walking tragedy.

"Goodbye Claire," he whispered in one final husky farewell. He wouldn't return the next year; his heart wouldn't abide to return.

Peter entered his underground apartment and barricaded himself with the heavy, steel door behind him. He had to shut the world out.

"I can not believe that you beat me again!" Hiro exclaimed, swiftly standing up, leaving an imprint of his body in the old, slightly torn couch.

"It's not my fault if you can't comprehend the vast array of combo moves that come equipped with your character," Micah teased as he once again began recklessly push buttons on his game controller.

It didn't take long for him to severely beat Hiro's character. Within a matter of seconds the screen flashed "_Game Over_."

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Hiro let out a frustrated shriek accompanied by a quick tirade in Japanese.

Peter mused as Micah playfully laughed at the angered Japanese man. They were so content in their small secluded apartment. While the world was slowly falling apart outside, they appeared to be clueless. However, no matter how merry they may have seemed at the moment, they very well knew the dangers that lay just outside of their door. In actuality, Peter was the only one who drastically changed over the years. They had all truly become the best of friends; however, Peter kept to himself as much as he could, making sure to not get too attached. He loved them both like a brother would, that was no question, but you would never find him playing video games along with them. Seclusion was the only word he knew the perfect definition of. He was barricaded, shut off from the world by his own choice.

"What's going on here?" Peter interrupted in a soft voice that startlingly silenced their quarrel. Micah dropped his controller by Hiro's and like magic the game and television shut off due to lack of his electric contact. Speaking to machines included being able to turn them on and off at will, perfect way to keep Hiro from messing up his high score. No electricity was a good thing for Micah at times.

"Peter, you are back..." Hiro murmured dreamily. Peter could have sworn he saw Hiro's eyes glisten when he saw him.

They couldn't take their eyes away from him, but who could blame them; he had been gone for quite a while now.

"Guys," Peter placed his black coat on a rusty hanger and waited for responses from his speechless friends.

Micah was the first to break away from his amazement, "PETER!" he rushed out and hugged his friend, tightly. Micha's height added to the pressure he was applying to the hug; he was a foot taller then Peter and peter had to steady himself against the sheer force of it.

"Hey, what's wrong with you two?" Peter asked, chuckling at their odd welcome home.

Hiro smiled sweetly and made his way to Peter, who was still constricted by Micah's fierce embrace. "Where have you been?" Hiro asked softly as he gave him a quick welcome-back hug.

Peter didn't answer as he walked over to the kitchen sink and let the cold water rush over his dry, frostbitten hands. His two friends kept quiet, uncomplainingly awaiting justification to their friend's lengthy absence.

Peter turned away from the stained kitchen sink, finally prepared to face the two men; but failing to do so properly. "What do you mean; didn't Molly tell you?" His answer was short, outwardly ordinary and nonchalant but well calculated. He was good at it; masking his feelings to the point where you would think he didn't care. It was gift he developed over time, which was so far from twenty year old Peter.

Strangely, when he was younger he would have never held any of his current feelings or concerns back. No, when he was twenty he would have been atop a roof singing to the world how he felt and why he felt it. However, time changes and with the years evolving into chaos, Peter had evolved with them. He wasn't the same blurry eyed dreamer that he used to be.

Micah and Hiro exchanged looks of slight objection before redirecting their eyes back on to Peter. "Peter, you've been gone for two months," Hiro couldn't help but quibble, his Japanese accent seeping through, even after all these years.

"Yeah, that..." Peter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "I had to go clear my head for a while guys, I'm sorry."

Micah and Hiro stood wordlessly while Peter walked away to his room.

As soon as he opened the door the blackness of the once abandoned space surrounded him. It was pitch black within his small box-like room; with only a bed, small closet and two nightstands to keep him company. The walls were unkempt, _like the inside of a sunken ship_ he thought to himself, as well as a dark shade of grey. This didn't really seem to add much personality to the room.

Peter lay down on his warn out, ruined mattress; letting it hug him in the roughest way possible, because after all, he didn't deserve any better. He was semi-afraid to close his eyes knowing it would permit his nightmares to surprise attack him. However, his exhaustion got the better of him and so his eyelids gave up on the battle.

He woke up, hours later, even more worn-out then before. A small draft from the ventilation made his skin acknowledge where he was. Home; he had forgotten that he had come back. He attempted to recall what he was dreaming just minutes before. No images crossed his mind, just an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. In fact, he stopped dreaming ten years ago. Any dreams that he could remember, _she _was in, haunting him and hunting him like a wounded animal. It wasn't always like that; she used to be a friend to him.

His dream's started out soft, caressing his imagination and heart. In fact, at one point they used to be so vivid and real that he was convinced that she would be asleep next to him during the night. Peter would awaken with a jolt, caked in sweat just from the feeling it left him. Unfortunately Simone was convinced too and after putting up with his dream lover for two whole years, she left. It was a simple goodbye and he didn't blame her. Losing Isaac made her depressed and at times hopeless. Of course his death came after he almost killed her and if it wasn't for Peter stopping the bullet with his mind she wouldn't have had a chance to say goodbye to him at all. It was close, one second slower and it would have pierced her heart. A day later Sylar killed Isaac and Simone found comfort in Peter. At the time Peter welcomed it, it didn't matter why she chose to find comfort in him, all it mattered was that she did. So in a sense Simone ran to Peter like an injured animal and when Peter started having dreams, she left.

Jessica Sanders, Micah's mother, filled her shoes a little bit after that. However, sleeping with Jessica didn't feel the same as it did with Simone. He figured Jessica, a mother, in a weird way was trying to nurture and protect him. There was never more then sex involved. At least not on his part but he wasn't sure about her point of view since she died before he could ask her. Just because she had super strength didn't mean that getting sick wouldn't affect her. She was human after all and with the death of her husband, her son was all alone. That's how Peter met Micah.

He slowly ran his fingers from side to side in his oily, jet-black hair, neatly slicking it back. His body felt heavier than usual as Peter sat up on his soaked mattress. Allowing his eyes to adjust a little bit to the night he stared into the vast emptiness of his room. Years ago he came across a man who could see in the dark; his eyes acting like night vision goggles. Soon everything in the room was lit up in a bright green radiance, permitting him to see the smallest of places with ease. It wasn't as creepy as one would think; Peter in fact found consolation in knowing he was his own witness to his loneliness. He called it his _hiding place_, which sounded foolishly juvenile considering he was 41 years-old. He was beginning to get drained of life; he was weak now. His optimistic persona was misplaced somewhere during the fifteen years he had spent with his "power".

His fingers sympathetically traced the coarse scar that flawed his right cheek.

'_X marks the spot.'_

He remembered Sylar's cruel expression as he uttered the words that led to one neat motion with his finger leaving Peter scarred.

It was darkness that hugged him in times like these, times when Peter began to analyze what should have been done, what could have been done, and what he did. He stopped anticipating life in his room and it was eerily comforting.

Hours later Peter emerged from his bedroom even drowsier then when he went in. He heard the rain lightly tapping against the covered windows.

"Good morning Peter." Micah happily greeted him from across the room. Micah in many ways upheld the threatening image of his father; however, unlike his father Micah managed to be chipper at most times in the day. Peter liked that most about him. Micah's child-like innocence was the only thing keeping Peter from turning into a bitter old man.

Peter smiled and nodded, showing his acknowledgment of the young man. Micah was used to the opaque cold shoulder, and fully understood that Peter didn't mean anything by it. It was just the way Peter was these days; one could say he was slightly self absorbed. The last couple of years really made him closed off, he would risk his life for his friends and strangers but he wouldn't take a crack at a conversation for weeks.

The brass cups clanked against each other as Peter ravaged through the sink full of dirty dishes. His nerves knew a thick, black coffee was welcomed after a night full of panic and demons.

"By the way Peter, I fixed it." Micah's voice fought against the clanking of the dishes. Peter put the cup he was holding gently down on the rusted surface and turned to let Micah elaborate on the statement.

"What?"

Micah looked up from what he was doing and smiled, "Yeah, I finished it a couple of days ago."

Peter, slightly ticked off, walked towards him, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Micah's eyebrows scrunched up, "How do you propose I could have done that exactly?"

Peter's irritation was always eminent. He slicked his hair back with a run of his fingers and slid into a sofa next to the young genius, "I don't know Micah your girlfriend could have helped you out."

"Ok, well next time I'll pull out the Bat Signal, maybe you can see that from god knows where you are next."

Peter didn't respond to the young man's comment, only opening his mouth to say, "Show me."

Micah could barely contain his excitement as he brought out two seemingly ordinary silver watches.

He quickly handed them to Peter. Peter flipped them over, looked at them from the side but nothing seemed to make him think that Micah had done anything extra to them. In fact, they looked like they were made in the 1980's and never touched up after.

"Ok, so 'this' is what you managed to finish while I was away?" Peter couldn't help but be cynical about the pieces of old technology he held in his palms.

Micah smirked, "Here let's put it on." He got one of the watches from Peter and proceeded to examine the skeptical mans wrists.

"I just have to find the right spot." He found it, "Here we go, now don't scream."

Even with Micah's split second warning, Peter was taken by surprise. The watch Micah laid down on his bare skin bit him, hard. Peters lip quivered, letting only a painful but silent 'ouch' slip out.

Micah chuckled and nervously backed away from Peter's hands, "Sorry."

Peter couldn't help but sarcastically smile as his heartbeat pulsated underneath the cold metal plate of the watch, "Yeah, I'm sure you are."

Peter and Micah both jumped, their necks snapping towards the loud slam of their apartment door. Molly darted in; no knock, just a loud bang of the heavy door destroying the frame was left in her destructive path.

She ran over to the two men, wide eyed and out of breath. The glee of excitement from her eyes showed them there was no need for alarm, just a lot of questions she was dying to ask. Micah and Peter adjusted themselves in their chairs again, attempting to recollect their nerves from the loud intrusion.

"Ok, I am so totally here!" Molly bounced onto the sofa adjacent to Peter and focused her attention on him.

Peter's eyes shifted back and forth in confusion, "I'm sorry Molly, but what exactly are you here for?"

Molly sat up dumfounded, "Wait this is what you were talking about when you said Peter's body might rip in half right?"

"Excuse me?" Peter panicked and with one impulse started ripping off his watch.

"No, no, no." Micah jumped to his feet, prying Peter's fingers off of the watch.

The young genius shot Molly a warning look and then flashed a reassuring smile to Peter, "I assure you Peter, there is no need for alarm and this is nothing dangerous. You know that Molly likes to make a big deal out of everything."

Peter sat back down in his previous position. "Molly, if you knew about this," Peter pointed to the shabby watch, "Then why didn't you just search for me?"

"I know how you are Pete, we all know how you need your space." Molly atoned, she felt guilty for stalling his mission. "I'm sorry,"

Peter flashed her a sweet crooked smile and patted her on the hand gently.

Micah sighed with relief, "Now that we are one big happy family again lets start shall we."

After two hours of Micah pumping Peters head full of explanations about the watch and how it worked, Peter finally had to ask _the _question. "So how much time do I exactly have with this thing?"

Micah winced and shrugged, "Come on man, that's not important, the important thing is that I fixed it."

"Micah," Peter growled softly, frustration always reared its ugly head with him, "give it to me straight."

Micah forfeited, "Ok look, in reality we don't know. Ideally it would be great to go back for as long as you want. However, Peter, after so many years of you and Hiro jumping back and forth into time it's hard to say how long your body will be able to handle it. It's been years since we had to jump this far back, for all we know the space time continuum has begun to get worn out." Micah shook his head in disappointment, "However, being that I am a genius, these watches should be able to sustain your body molecules long enough."

Peter sighed, "Come on Micah can't get an approximation at least!?"

"The max time I would say is a week."

Peter sat silent for a while.

"Fine, a week is fine."

Micah lightened up, "Oh hold on, I didn't tell you about the best thing yet." He motioned Peter towards the computer.

They walked towards Micah's old, spruced up 2007 computer, "Check it out." He typed in a few codes and popped up multiple screens, "I can monitor the exact time you spend there, and how your body is handling the time jump. It's kind of like a heart monitor, it follows you're heart beat."

Two hours later, Peter and Hiro stood side by side, both of their eyes shut tightly.

Molly and Micah monitored from the background, the hairs on their necks standing up from the heat and cold circulating the room, as well as from pure excitement and the unknown. It was always an odd mood when Peter and Hiro were _Time Bending_.

"If you guys see Papa Mohinder can you tell him I said Hi," Molly pleasantly requested.

In a split second, before she could blink or ever get a response, they were gone.

Micah quickly sat by his computer, his touch turned it on and a chart showed up on the screen. A timer in the right corner, his eyes quickly read the readings. "Oh no!"

Molly panicked, "What do you mean _Oh no_?"

"They didn't arrive at the right time period." Micah was even more panicked then Molly.

"What? What the hell do you mean not the right time?"


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for reading the story so far. Chapter 3 is when everything picks up and things start to clear up. So stay tuned! Again. If you want to read this story with pictures or music go to http/ladybozi. livejournal. com/ 30106. html# cutid1 ---without the spaces. Thanks to my BETA JAYNE! Also, someone commented on the title and just to be more clear--there is a reason for it and you'll find out throughout the story. Promise! R&R please

_BTW the song is calle: One more Kiss, Dear by Vangelis _

Micah shook his head clear; he needed to get his thoughts together. There was no time to waste, he quickly jumped out of his chair and went over to his work desk.

"This was a bad idea Molly; I was hoping this wouldn't happen." He rummaged through his cluttered desk, a pyramid of files and papers.

Molly nervously hovered around his desk, "Micah, please tell me what's going on, Peter didn't rip in half did he? If he did, you said he wouldn't rip. What the heck is going on?"

Micah pulled out a large poster-like piece of paper, completely ignoring Molly's inquisitive questioning. The wrinkled expression on his face indicated he had found what he was looking for. There wasn't as second to lose, he pinned the paper up for them both to see. He took a step back to make sense of the whole situation. What he was looking at was a jumbled up, logical explanation to what happened to their friends.

"What the hell is this, did you map out a way to pass that stupid videogame of yours? Because if you did keep in mind that I have beaten you -,"

"No." He cut her off abruptly, "It's a map. It maps out the possible courses back and forth thru time." Micah walked up to the map and pointed to one of the multiple lines, "See this one, that's us."

"Que? Sorry no habla Micah-babble please," Molly playfully quipped.

Taking a breath he attempted to explain it again, "This is us, our universe, and our time." His finger traced the long line marked up by different numbers, and trailed over to the line below it.

"This is one of the multiple parallel universes that were created by Hiro's constant time bending and with the unhelpful invention of my watch, we screwed up everything."

Both of them sat in silence after Micah finished his sentence, mesmerized by the possibility they might never see their friends again. A sweat broke out at the top of Micah's forehead; he was panicking in a quiet way.

"I didn't think this was actually possible, I mean it was a theory," he slowly turned to face a pale Molly, "but of all things that could go wrong a parallel universe!"

Molly studied the paper filled with numbers, dates, and lines. It was all gibberish to her and she knew it, but for her sanity she pretended she understood what she saw, "At least if they went in to the past they would have known what to expect, we don't know what is going on in that universe. For all we know Sylar could be president."

Micah shook his head, "This is entirely my fault, it must have been the watches, and they must have misdirected their path." He rushed back to his computer, with Molly following quickly.

Micah searched for answers on his screen, it flashed multiple screens scrambled with numbers and letters. "According to this, they are in parallel Universe three, the line I pointed out to you, except not 15 years in the past but in this exact time period," He was dumbfounded as he choked on his last words, "Same second, hour, year, just not this universe."

Peter opened his eyes; blurred vision prevented him from recognizing where he was at first but his pupils eventually adjusted to his surroundings allowing him to notice certain familiar objects.

It was his old flat in New York; he was relieved that they made it to their destination.

His aged burgundy, round base lamp sat on a small side table in the corner. He was basking in the shadows of his past. The curtains were shut closed, letting no light it. So most of what he was seeing at first was from memory until his night vision could let him see crispy clear. His couch was next to the fire place, everything seemed to be there just like he remembered. Hiro was enjoying his old friend's gleeful expression as he watched him inhale the atmosphere.

"I haven't seen you this happy in months." He assented with a slight Japanese accent.

Peter's crooked smile said it all; he was finally home. Instant rejuvenation soared through out him; Peter was no longer the pessimistic old man but the optimistic, lively, inquisitive young man he was once known to be.

Peter began to walk around, the floor creaking under each step, "It's weird, everything is almost the same, but it's not." He shook his head in confusion, "I don't know, it's dark and it's almost like things are really old, don't you think so?"

Hiro picked up a vase sitting on the mahogany dinner table, "Sorry, I don't know, I've never been in your apartment."

Peter chuckled, "Right, sorry. I don't know, it's kind of like," he picked up a pillow off his couch, "like this pillow here. I don't remember this pillow being here before." He brought it closer to his face, to take a closer look as if expecting to get a flash of himself buying it. Nothing happened. He put it back, half disappointed that he couldn't recall it.

"Can we please have some light Peter; you keep forgetting that I don't have night vision goggles like you."

Peter walked over to one of the black heavy curtains that blocked them from the outside world, "See like these curtains, they look really faded like they are 20 years old." He tugged on the left curtain, ready to pull it back.

"Don't you dare pull it back," a woman's voice threatened from the rear causing him to let go of the heavy drape.

Peter spun around to see a woman holding a gun, aimed right at his fore head. She stood eight feet away from him, frozen like a statue in the door way. It was still dark in the room and the only light was shining behind her from the open door way. Hiro froze her before she could get a shot off.

"Who the hell is she?" Peter walked over to her. Hiro took the gun out of her still hands.

"I don't know, maybe she is a police woman." Hiro mused while circulating the woman's motionless figure. She looked like she was in her late twenties, short blond hair, not very tall maybe five foot four.

"She looks familiar." Peter rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I just can't put my finger on it."

"Let's ask her, what harm can she do?" Hiro smiled sheepishly, "We have her gun." Tightly closing his eyes, he opened them to find her unfrozen.

She blinked and jumped back, her nerves scattered. She panicked and scanned her hands and everywhere around her for the gun. Seeing that it was gone, angrily, she went for the next likely means of protection. Drawing her hand back, she launched her fist towards Peters face. Luckily, he caught her clenched fingers in his palms and quickly twisted her arm back, pulling her body roughly to his.

Her right arm was pulled behind her back, tightly gripped by Peter. His right hand was wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her down against his chest. She struggled but after seeing it was useless she gave up.

Short heavy breaths escaped her, "If you're here to kill me just do it!"

"Kill you?" Peter let her go, "Why would we kill you?"

She sailed away from him and went back to her original place. There was an awkward silence as she questionably looked at the two men, "What are you doing in my apartment then?"

Peter was taken back, "Your apartment?" The woman nodded as she went to go turn on the light.

"Yes, my apartment and can I get my gun back please?" She stood with her hand out in front of Hiro. Hiro shot a look at Peter, who nodded to give her back her firearm. She took it from Hiro, who was reluctant to let go of the gun's handle.

"Hold on," Peter crossed his arms, holding on to the sides of his chest, "Are you positive that this, this apartment is yours?"

She was trying to put her gun in her holster, "Yes pretty sure."

"That's impossible; this looks like Peter Petrelli's apartment." He saw her wince a little, her whole body became tense and without warning she pulled out her gun once again pointing it toward Peter. Hiro was about to freeze her again but Peter said, "Stop!" before Hiro could even start.

The woman was shaking, her gun rattled slightly as she bit down on her lower lip to keep herself from crying. Tears were building up in her eyes, she shook her head, "How …" she whispered, stumbling over her own words, "How do you know that name?"

Peter kept silent. Her eyelids held a build up of tears and she let the warmth of the salt water burn her eyes.

"It's impossible," She slowly opened her eyes back up to look at him, her body beginning to shake. The gun dropped down to her side and nervously she walked up to him, just to make sure she wasn't imagining it. Her pupils opened in shock as they roamed over Peter's features, "It's you, but … it's impossible." She backed away slowly, dry eyed and convinced.

Peter didn't question who she was but as soon as she started crying he realized it was Claire, the cheerleader from Odessa. It wasn't obvious at first but unlike the pillow he couldn't recall buying, he recalled not saving her.

"Hiro, something went wrong." Peter said, careful not to take his eyes off of Claire.

"Excuse me miss, but what year is it?" Hiro asked.

Claire broke Peter's intense gaze to answer him, "2021."

Hiro pleadingly looked over at Peter, "That's impossible, that would mean we never left," he paused then winced, confusion in his tone. "Or it would mean that Micah was correct."

The last statement was enough to draw Peter away from Claire, "Micah was correct about what?"

Hiro panicked, "Micah said that there was a small possibility that our time bending would generate parallel universes."

"Wait," Peter was instantly ticked off about not receiving this part of the information before they'd left, "We are in a parallel Universe?"

Hiro nodded, "Yes."

Peter looked back at Claire, who was more confused then ever, "It means that in this universe I saved you."

Claire's eyebrows wrinkled, "What are you talking about?"

"We were trying to go back fifteen years to the past, but instead we showed up here in your universe." Peter tried to explain to the blond as much as he understood which wasn't that much.

Claire shook her head, still perplexed.

Hiro stepped in, seeing Peter struggle, attempting to clarify. "Did you ever read comic books?"

Claire turned slightly red, "Yeah, a year after I found out I could regenerate I sort of became a comic book geek."

Hiro smiled brightly, "Okay so you know how there are different universes, same x-men etc but different scenarios and worlds?"

"Ohh!" Claire brightened up, "I get it, so instead of going back in time you guys just jumped from one dimension to another."

Peter's eyebrow's scrunched up, "That made no sense what so ever."

"Well, she understood," Hiro cheerfully stated.

Claire brought out three cups of chamomile tea and sat them carefully down on the table.

"Thank you," Hiro thanked her thoughtfully and faintly bowed before taking a seat next to Peter.

"Thank you." Peter smiled at her.

"So you guys were trying to go back in time to save me?" They could tell she was flattered. She sat down across from them and began to blow cool air on to her scorching tea.

They had managed to tell her bits and pieces of their story but not all of it. She was inquisitive and wanted to know exactly what was happening; the where, the why and the who?

Peter cleared his throat, "So where am I? I mean, your Peter. Where is he?"

Claire suddenly felt troubled. Her hands recoiled back from her hot cup. "You," She paused and looked apologetic at the very alive and well Peter sitting across from her, "You died ten years ago." Her voice was barely audible.

"How did he die?" Hiro quickly asked before she could get another word out, seeing she was having some difficulty.

Claire smiled nervously; it wasn't difficult to notice she was being ripped apart while speaking about it. "Sylar!" The rage in her tone seeped thru.

Peter and Hiro exchanged quick glances of astonishment.

"Really Sylar?" Peter wasn't convinced, "I mean it's impossible it was Sylar, we have had to deal with much worse then Sylar."

Claire was offended, "Excuse me?"

"No, I'm sorry we are not trying to be rude," Hiro attempted to calm her, "It's just that we haven't seen or heard from Sylar for over 13 years so it's hard for us to imagine that's all."

Claire's nerves were somewhat calmed, "If you must know Peter, was decapitated." The tears were hard to fight back, she tried so hard but it was impossible. Without even a twitch a tear rolled down her cheek, "He's dead let's just leave it at that."

Peter and Hiro didn't want to push it.

"I'm sorry but I have to go. I have to meet someone." Claire looked down at her watch and sat up.

Hiro and Peter also stood up, but for different reasons. Hiro sat up because a lady sat up also. Peter sat because he wanted to go with the lady.

"Where are you going?" Peter couldn't help but ask; his curious nature got the better of him.

Claire was hesitant to say at first. However, the word, "Johnny's," slipped from her mouth.

Peter perked up, "Johnny's the bar? I haven't been there in years, mind if I come?"

Claire was ready and willing to tell him 'no'. The request would have been denied if there wasn't a gut feeling telling her that this Peter wouldn't back down without a fight.

She didn't have time to argue, "Fine."

"Wait what will I do until you are back?" Hiro asked woefully, his sadden expression could easily break hearts.

"Does my TV work? … I mean does your TV work?" Peter asked the blond putting on her beige coat.

Claire nodded.

"There you go buddy, you can watch TV." Hiro didn't even wait until Peter finished talking. He was already on the couch with the remote in his hand, ready to catch up on what he had been missing.

It was still lightly raining when Peter and Claire walked out of the building. She pulled out her black umbrella and waited for Peter to get under it with her. However, he didn't become aware of her for a few seconds; he was too enamored by the ugliness that lay before him.

It was still the streets of New York he was looking at, but these streets were different to the ones he remembered. New York had devolved in this universe. The stoops of buildings were unkempt with rusted railings. Broken side walks were unmasked by the lack of people in the street. The cold rain air made the impression even worse.

It's not like back home was any better.

They had fixed up almost all of New York in the last couple of years, but there was still a good chunk remaining that would always stay shoddy.

Peter could tell this part of town was still in rubble, no one managed to fix it. It must have been the aftermath of explosion which led to this once charming part of town going down the drain. It wasn't destroyed it was just unkempt.

"Peter?" Claire broke his captivated eyes away from the dirty sidewalks.

He turned, his soaked hair falling over his face, blocking his view of her, "Huh?"

"Come on, do you want to go or not?" and she started down the street. Peter hurried underneath the umbrella and raced to keep up with her hurried pace. The velocity of the cold air seemed to quicken, moving in unison with their accelerated steps; seemingly following them.

Men and women rushed past them as they got closer to a more social section of the ruined city. The rain was flushing everyone out of the streets, clearing a path for Peter to witness how much misery was left crawling about. If he was able to muster a shred of emotion now would have been the right time but Peter was incapable of emotion, his life dealing him that fate.

He looked down at the blond, determined looking woman walking closely next to him. She didn't look at him the entire way to the bar, she kept her eyes forward. Peter could almost hear her heart jumping with nervousness. The air was getting colder at this point of the downpour, and passersby's mouths seemed to smoke from the frost. Peter saw his own breath escaping from his body, taking his mind back to Claire's grave just days before. His body shuddered and it wasn't from the cold beating at his skin. Luckily, they had reached Johnny's Bar in time for Peter to forget his sudden lapse. He wanted so much to return back and lay with her, lay down beside Claire's grave but Peter knew that was impossible.

His eye caught a flash of blonde hair sweeping past his line of vision. It was the brightness in the darkness before him, it always had been. How could he want to lie down beside her when she was living and breathing, walking beside him.

Yanking himself back to reality with a jolt Peter said the first thing that came into his head. "Wow, it looks exactly the same," and he opened the front door for Claire.

"Yeah right, this place is swarming with Neosapians. Trust me. This is not the same place you once knew Peter."

"Neosapians?" Peter hadn't heard the term before.

"That's what they call evolved humans, mutants, whatever you want to call people with powers. People like us." Claire walked in not looking back as Peter followed.

'Johnny's' was the best place to go to get some peace and quite. It was a strange place for tranquility, a bar, but Johnny ran his place in a special way. The bar was close to his house and every Friday, when he was in his last year of med school; he would come down here and have a cold beer. It would relax him; make him feel sane again in an insane world.

Claire was right, this was a different place then how Peter remembered it. The soft sounds of an old song on the aged juke box rang through the bar. The song was wonderfully vintage; adding to the nostalgia of the place. The song seemed to stand out more in Peter's ears then the masses of hushed conversations that lingered over every table. The man's voice was comforting; swimming through the static of the speakers and into Peter's ears.

_'Just as every autumn_

_Leaves fall from the tree_

_Tumble to the ground and die_

_So in the springtime_

_Like sweet memories_

_They will return as will I'_

People were still neighboring the pool table, cloaked by a haze of smoke, but the faces he saw weren't familiar or kindly. The lights were dimmed, and that was about the only thing, along with the furnishings, that seemed unchanged.

Peter was getting dirty looks from every angle at this point. It was probably due to the fact that Peter was standing in the middle of the room like a lost puppy.

"Peter!" Claire motioned over to him sternly. He was a full-fledged man but still she made him feel like a little boy being disciplined by his mother. He quickly made his way to her table in the far corner. "Please don't draw attention to yourself. This meeting is important to me and I don't need you to screw it up." Claire quietly hissed. It was enough for Peter to understand how important this was to Claire.

_'Like the sun, dear_

_Upon high_

_Well return, dear_

_To the sky_

_And well banish the pain and the sorrow_

_Until tomorrow goodbye.'_

Claire straightened up her shirt, unaware she appeared like a young school girl awaiting for her secret admirer to reveal himself. Unexpectedly Peter wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, but reconsidered, knowing it was too early to pay her that type of complement. Peter didn't want to sound like he was coming on to her.

He wasn't sure if he was allowed to be attracted to her in the first place, let alone if he should be. She was a person from a completely different world. She might look and sound like Claire but how was he to know if she was the same Claire that lay seven feet under in Odessa Texas? Peter mentally corrected himself of course she wasn't the same, he had never met the Claire in this universe. Yet Peter felt like he knew his Claire far better then he knew the woman sitting next to him now.

For now, Peter would keep his undeniable connection to her to himself. It was the safest way to go as the song finally ended.

They sat in the corner of the bar; the smoke from the other tables finally reached them. Claire's anxiousness caused both of them to be silent. It wasn't the time or place to discuss the past and present let alone the future. Peter knew this so he kept his attention on the TV in the top corner of the bar and Claire kept her awareness on the front door.

It was bizarre sitting next to the Claire, completely nonchalant. Peter had been dreaming of the blond firecracker for years and now he was completely unaffected by her presence. Well, not completely, he had knots in his stomach and when his leg accidentally brushed hers' Peter felt a warm tingle on his skin. Not to mention, he was completely ready and willing to pounce on her like a man seeing a woman for the first time after getting out of prison. The attraction was still there, Peter just stored it in the back of his mind. So, other then the warm feeling Peter got from sitting so close to her, both of them were uncommunicative.

Any minute now the individual Claire was waiting for would cross the threshold and give her the information she was looking for, for the last seven years.

A man, in his early thirties, walked in. And his clairvoyance told him he was about to meet a stranger. He found no need to search for Claire among the many unmemorable faces that sat around the bar. He took his time moving through the path of tables before he sat at Peter and Claire's small round table in the back.

"Are you West?" Claire didn't squander any time with unnecessary small talk. She was determined and it was clear she didn't want to bullshit. If a tanker truck crashed through the bar's wall it wouldn't budge her purpose for a second.

Peter kept quiet, his arms folded across his chest, leaning back on the creaking chair. He was studying the young man in front of him; analyzing his soul, slowly listening to the speed of his heartbeat. However, it was Claire's heart that troubled him. It was beating fast, but at the same time he could feel this incredible sorrow ripping through her body.

The man smiled flirtatiously, "Yes, my name is West and you must be the lovely and sweet Claire?" Claire nodded, slightly leaning forward hoping he would be quick with his information.

West looked over at Peter, "Is he safe?" West asked in a coy but stern manner.

Peter didn't answer, from the corner of his eye he saw Claire roll her eyes. He was waiting for the steam to come blowing out of her ears that Peter knew would come, this knowledge of her made Peter smirk. He heard her heart beat speed up yet still the deep emptiness that he felt in her before was present. It bothered him. Was the information at this meeting the cause of it? It was a nagging feeling, but Peter didn't want to shake it lose.

"He is fine, now please," Claire persuaded West's attention back to her, "I need the information you have."

The whole thing seemed a little too uncomplicated for Peter. The exchanging of secret information was supposed to be tricky and at times messy; this West person in front of him didn't seem like anyone important or even worthwhile.

That was until he took out the bright yellow envelope. Suddenly the expression on the younger man's face went from playful and upbeat to serious and professional. The yellow envelope was a standard size letter cover; bare on both sides.

He slid it over to Claire ever so carefully, making sure not to let go of it until it was safely under her palm.

"Inside you have only minimal information, but the address is the most important. Follow the instructions and keep it to yourself…"

Peter was listening intently until he glanced up. The TV screen in the corner was covering the evening news and to Peter's surprise his brother was happily smiling and waving to the camera.

That immense sadness that traveled throughout Claire soul suddenly slipped off his radar as Peter's jaw dropped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading this. Again, if you want to read this with picture and music the story is posted on LJ. There are links in the first two chapters. Let me just say thanks to my BETA Jayne first. Happy Reading. Please let me know what you think! **

**Chapter 3**

Age had taken a deep toll on Nathan. Fifteen years ago he was handsome, not to say he wasn't still striking now but something was different in his eyes. As if a small light inside of him had burnt out, something unattractive stood out in the creased lines of Nathan's face.

However any thought of the change in his brother slipped from Peter's mind, before his brain could even begin to react, comprehend what he was being shown, his eyes started to swell up with tears. It was too much for one soul to take, for Peter to take but the fact was: two spirits had risen in one day. It was all coming together for Peter in_ this_ universe. He had saved the cheerleader and his brother was still breathing, what more could a broken soul ask for?

When the camera shot back to the news anchor Peter quickly looked towards Claire. His eye caught West walking away, now some distance from their table, heading towards the door. Taking the appropriate safety precautions Claire put the envelope inside her coat pocket. Precious things shouldn't be lost; they should be kept close to your heart so she put it in the pocket closest to her strength. Her heart which was beating so fast in her chest Claire thought she might pass out.

Peter's large hand leisurely rested on Claire's delicate shoulder. He didn't know why he'd done that, feeling it was the appropriate thing for him to do as he then leant his body into her slightly. "That's my brother." His tone was deep and solid, almost proud in nature. He'd finally introduced them. The two people who had affected his life so much had finally met, well in his miserable mind at least.

Peter pointed to the TV screen as it flashed the image of Nathan up once more. A smile like his was now facing him, a smile scarcely forgotten even after all this time and again Peter was hit with a blast of emotion.

"My brother is alive!" Peter said a littler louder, almost having to convince himself that what he just witnessed was true. He felt his insides ripping apart, Peter was weaker now than when he'd found out Claire was alive. Joy and Sorrow were fighting in his heart for supremacy at this point. The black sand in the hour glass of his life was stuck; not literally but time was slow enough for Peter to analyze the situation. He had Nathan back but now it was a matter of when he would have to leave him behind again?

Peter had known Nathan his whole life, and to see him raised from the dead was completely over whelming. A drunken like smile appeared on Peter's face; he was still in sheer shock.

Claire's sad, sinking feeling suddenly hit and infected Peter. Mixed emotions were hard to handle for him now. There was still an irritating, bad feeling in the back of Peter's mind trying to open its door; but he permitted his happy façade to barricade the entrance. Just for a little while longer at least.

The same reaction didn't even flutter upon Claire's face. She was stone faced and Peter wasn't sure but he could have sworn there was a scowl in the middle of her scrunched up eyebrows. To read her mind would be an immoral invasion of privacy, he had decided that a long time ago so he let it go. He wasn't about to do that to Claire.

As the cigarette smoke from people playing at the nearby pool tables sneaked over to them Peter's expression, which had oozed with delight faded.

There was no need for introductions between the two; Peter had realized that by now. The look in her eyes was peculiar but it was enough to assure Peter that Claire had _already_ met Nathan.

She didn't respond, but she studied Peter just the way he was studying her. This troubled Peter. His mind raced back and forth between the opportunity to unlock his mind reading ability and hop on into Claire's train of thought. He knew that was the easy way out. He decided against it, shutting that ability down even before it had began.

Claire's eyelashes seemed to hover over her apparent sense of uncertainty. Both of her black pupils were steady on him, as if she was the one with the ability to read minds.

Abruptly she got up and hurried to the door. Peter didn't follow.

The smoke at last engulfed their entire table. His mind was blank with contemplation. Nothing Claire did in the last minute made any sense. What was so horrible about his brother being alive? From the few seconds Nathan was on television, he had come off as a big time Politician. As Peter spotted '_Long live Petrelli'_ banners in the background, he realized that at least some things never changed.

Finally Peter got up and hastily ran after Claire.

Outside the stars blanketed the night sky with their warm light. The rain had subsided long ago and as a result the air was crisp and frosty. The street lamps were useless; they were either broken, buzzing with power surges, or turning on and off every second. Peter darted over puddles of water and past people as he ran.

The fastest way was to either teleport to her side or fly over, but he wasn't sure how the people walking by would react. He recalled six years ago; a renegade bus was about to run into the side of a flower shop, Peter had been on the rooftop above and had seen it just in time. Flying down was the quickest way, so he jumped down onto the bus, stopping it a split second before it hit. Saving a couple of lives wasn't enough for people it seemed, he had someone throw a rock at his head and call him a demon. That was a wonderfully gratifying experience and from that moment Peter thought better of using is ability in public. If need be he could become invisible and help in that way.

Claire had slowed down enough for Peter to see her unmistakable figure ahead of him. Her warm aura broke through the darkness as she stood, her head turned halfway into a streetlight. It loomed over her, cutting her away from the outside world. Her head turned to look at him first then her body followed, waiting for him.

Peter finally reached her.

The street lamp illuminated both of their tense figures, letting their breaths join and fly off as one. Claire's freezing hands made their way into her deep coat pockets and stayed there while she waded around the light in silence. She was stepping in shallow waters of truth. Peter was waiting patiently to dive in.

She finally exhaled, making sure not to look him in the face, her nose an opaque red from the cold, "I think you should see something."

Hiro was pacing around the room when Peter and Claire finally came back into the apartment.

"Peter," he quickly tried to speak, attempting to pull his thoughts together enough for them to be complete sentences when he spoke them.

Whatever he had to tell him was no doubt of great importance but Peter avoided him for a second, following Claire into the living room. Hiro trotted behind them.

The channels on the television were almost completely indistinguishable because of the hastened way Claire sifted through them with the remote. The two men waited for her to find what she was looking for. She finally stopped on the local news and Peter smiled as his brother appeared on screen once again.

"Look man, my brother's alive," he joyfully informed Hiro who showed his response with a bright smile. The plateaus of Peter's hands weren't big enough to hide his excitement as he covered his mouth subtly with them.

"Flying man," Hiro beamed in delight as he continued to watch the screen.

The small hairs on Claire's neck stood up and she cringed, luckily Peter didn't see. He felt it though, and it made him resort from happy to serious in an instant. 'Mute' flashed on the bottom of the screen as soon as Claire saw the story being covered.

A video with Nathan walking down a street, littered with people made Peter excited and intrigued all at once. Claire turned up the volume when the screen shot back to the news anchor, just loud enough for them hear what was going on. "….The President wasn't as thrilled with the plan, saying quote, "It will do nothing but distract the citizens from their true purpose."

Peter smiled and interjected, "Oh my god, Nathan is the President. I can't believe this. This is amazing."

"No, sorry to burst your bubble Peter," Claire's voice was stern as she spoke, "But Nathan isn't the President, _that_ is," nodding towards the television.

A woman with short blond hair and harsh blue eyes was revealed on camera, Nathan standing in the background. Claire glared at her intensely inwardly acknowledging the woman in the screen's smile was fake; just like her humble attrite.

Peter suddenly felt dehydrated, "N- no t-that's im-impossible," he slightly stuttered as he put one arm across his chest, resting the other arms' elbow on top of it, "She can't be the President. That's impossible … that's Niki!" Peter's eyes were wide in confusion.

Peter called her Niki when she wasn't listening. His mind flashed back to the first night they were in bed together, in his reality. He had called her Niki all this time, up until that day.

"_Jessica, please just call me Jessica, Peter." _

It took him a while to understand her request. She thought Niki was weak; she wanted to permanently be Jessica. The idea was absurd to say the least, Peter knew about the split personality but Jessica had left a long time ago. She was just Niki at that time. Sweet and motherly Niki Sanders. Hell, who was he to judge her when his life was more screwed up then anyone he had ever known.

"_No. I want to be called Jessica. Do this one thing for me Peter." _

Claire snapped his conscious back like a boomerang. "No, that is Jessica Petrelli."

Peter kept quiet, but he could feel Hiro's distress pulsating. Astonishment was painted on Hiro's smooth, wrinkle free face. He could only imagine what was going through Peter's head.

Claire muted the sound again, "And _she_," the camera panned over to a woman with short black hair, "is the reason we love our President so much. In fact we love her so much that we can't seem to get rid of her. In fact we haven't been able to get rid of her for the last ten years."

"Ten years?" Hiro was even more troubled now, "But that is too long that wouldn't make her a President it would -."

Peter interjected, finishing Hiro's statement, "Make her a dictator." Peter couldn't believe what he was saying. A woman with short black hair and large yes took the podium after Jessica had stepped down. The woman didn't smile but spoke with a hypnotizing glare.

"That woman is Eden McCain," Peter added only to have Claire correct him.

"No, she went back to the name Sarah Ellis the moment Jessica decided to run." Claire turned off the television and faced the two men, "I should know, she worked for my father at the Paper Company."

She pushed past them, clearly upset, but not as distraught as Hiro. Peter followed her into the kitchen, feeling his emotions beginning to bubble into life, something that he wasn't used to. Peter had been disconnected with his emotions for such along time, feeling them raging deep within him again was making him dizzy.

"I don't get it. Why didn't Nathan do anything about it?"

Claire's artificial laugh echoed, "Nathan? Why Nathan, _your brother_," She put an emphasis on the 'your brother', "Is too busy being in love with her to realize that she is a cold hearted bitch." Her reaction made Peter a hundred percent sure Claire knew Nathan. "Not that he cares about anyone but himself." Claire murmured while getting out a tea bag.

"Wait that isn't fair, Nathan has done nothing but try to help everyone. He would never let her go as far as to shatter democracy." Peter couldn't help but protect his brother's honor; it was in his blood to protect him.

Claire laughed sarcastically again then turned around sternly, "Wow. You really are from a different universe."

Hiro popped his head into the kitchen deliberately interrupting their argument, "Hello," he smiled innocently, "I need to speak with Peter please."

Peter couldn't help but frown at Claire, letting her know he disapproved of her comments about Nathan. His brother wasn't a bad person. She was just over dramatizing he told himself as he walked out the door.

The two men walked into the dining room, where they could talk in some privacy. "What is it?" Peter lightly snapped, his bitterness towards Claire hadn't quite shaken loose yet.

"I know what happened," Hiro was whispering for no apparent reason, he had no real reason to. It just happened to be that type of secretive atmosphere fluttering around them. "The watches are the reason we ended up here." Hiro continued on as soon as he saw he had received Peter's full attention.

"Will we be able to go back?"

Hiro nodded excitedly, "Yes, all we have to do is set the time back and we should go back to our own dimension."

Peter was skeptical, how could either one of them know what would really happen if they time bended again? "How do you know that we won't end up in another parallel universe?"

"No, we must go back Peter," He didn't want to but Hiro was determined, "Ando is coming to visit me. I have not seen him in a year Peter. I have to go back."

Ando's friendship to Hiro was an essential part of his life. Anything other then going back home would be unacceptable in Hiro's eyes. Adventure in another universe wasn't seductive enough to pull him away from Ando's visit.

An awkward silence filled the air between the two friends. Taking a deep breath it was Peter's dulcet tone that broke it. "I can't go Hiro." There was a swirl of frustration building up in Peter. He was seeing things in this dimension that he didn't want to believe existed, things that had gone from amazing to tragic in less then a couple of hours. Again, Peter was back to blaming himself for how everything had turned out in this altered universe too. Peter knew if he would have survived in this dimension things would be different.

"Why?" the smile falling from Hiro's face.

"My brother and Claire, they're alive … she's the cheerleader Hiro." He wasn't going anywhere, how could he?

Hiro already knew Peter would say this, he was just hoping Peter would up and surprise him. Yet Hiro had learnt Peter was incapable of surprises; his life was set in stone, completely unfaltering and unchangeable. Hiro just looked at his friend with sorrowful eyes, "I'm sorry Peter, but I must go." Hiro couldn't stay.

"I know," and it was then Peter finally let a little smile escape his lips. It would be wrong of him to make his friend stay, Peter wasn't that selfish.

However, there was no room left for compromise or even second thoughts. Peter had made his decision the minute he saw President Jessica. He had to fix it. This was for Jessica. This wasn't the way it should be. Faith towards a brighter day was shattered were Peter came from, but who says that this world can't be saved?

He'd saved the cheerleader; maybe he could finally save the world.

Cheese dripped onto Micah's lap and he was forced to remove the hot grilled cheese sandwich from his mouth with a 'yelp', "You know Molly, the least you could do is let it cool a little before you let me shove it into my mouth."

"Food is to Micah, as kryptonite is to Superman," Molly's playful banter sang from the kitchen.

"Whatever you say Wonder Woman!" Micah shot back, smirking and raising his eyebrows while continently pounding away on his computer.

"I thought you read comics, I wouldn't be Wonder Woman I'd be someone like -," Molly was abruptly cut off by the fact Hiro had popped into the room. Grilled cheese sandwiches went soaring all over the kitchen and came flopping down on the filthy floor.

"Hiro!" both Micah and Molly said in concerned unison, running towards him, their hands hurriedly touching and reaching out to him.

They instantly surrounded the Japanese man with a flood of questions …

"Where did you go?"

"Are you okay?"

"Oh god, where is Peter?"

"Did you save her?"

"Did he rip in half?"

Hiro silenced them with a wave of his hand, "I am fine and he is fine …," his smile and tone dropped, "but Peter didn't come back with me."

Molly dramatically flopped down on the floor with one hand on her forehead, "Oh no, he did rip in half!"

Both Micah and Hiro's eyes rolled in unison.

"Oh get up off the floor," Micah extended his hand and lifted Molly up with ease.

"Oh Superman!" She snickered as he lifted her floppy body up.

"Seriously Molly," Micah seemed a tad ticked off, "Act your age."

"Teenagers please!" Hiro tried to put on a serious expression in front of the two clowns, "this is serious."

"Thank you very much grandpa but we are twenty five years old." Molly informed the Japanese man.

Hiro groaned a sigh of defeat.

"Sorry," Micah rubbed the back of his neck, "She got into your candy stash."

Hiro munched on newly grilled sandwiches and explained what had happened.

Afterwards Micah explained what went wrong and how the multiple universes were created and how the turn times began to collide. Their paths were intertwined and if Hiro could just wait a couple of days they would be able to find a way to correct the watches and let them aid in his navigations through the seas of time.

"Just give me a few days and I can rework them."

Peter entered the kitchen only to see Claire sitting down on the floor reading furiously. Beside her laid the yellow envelope she received from West torn at the top. It intrigued Peter as to why she was sitting on the floor when there was a perfectly good dining set in the room. He assumed she was too intrigued by the letter's contents to even consider moving from the spot she opened it at.

"What does it say?" He asked fascinatingly. Outlandish things had happened to him in the last couple of hours and frankly Peter wasn't sure if he did indeed want to know what was in the letter?

Claire stayed silent, not really knowing if she should refuse to answer or pretend she just didn't hear him.

Peter took a breath, sensing Claire hesitation, "Seems pretty interesting," repeatedly again, "what does it say?" She looked up but didn't answer him right away. The edge of the countertop acted as a support as Claire lifted her body to stand.

"It's information about something very dear to me." She attempted to use as little of emotion as possible when she spoke.

Peter nodded pulling out a chair to sit on, "What kind of information?" He could have sworn that he saw her eye twitch. To tell the truth, getting her a little ticked off was giving him a small rush. Peter figured it was his old age that liked getting her mad; it was the way her voice rose when she spoke angrily. In some twisted way, Peter was expressing his fondness of her. Just like when he was in grade two and he pulled Michelle's hair, a girl in his class. He only did it to tell her he liked her; much in the way he irritated Claire to let her know he cared. It was childish, but nothing so far had worked. Being civil and not engaging in conversation wasn't working for him, so it was either this or to silently torture himself.

Peter kept looking at her waiting for a response; it was either this or to finally start reading her thoughts. He shook any thoughts of infuriating her loose; it was stupid he told himself. Plain dumb to get this rise out of Claire; what was he, eighteen? He was forty-one years old he was in no condition to flirt.

Was he flirting, was that what this was? Peter pushed all thoughts of that nature from his mind.

They stayed silent and Claire squinted frustratingly at Peter until he spoke again, "Are you going to tell me what that letter says or are you going to let me take it out of your hand and read it myself? Or would you rather I invaded your privacy and read your mind Claire?"

Truthfully both of them were taken back by the stern statement that came out of his mouth. Both of their jaws clenched, it was secrecy that divided people. They both knew this; so Claire reluctantly handed Peter the letter.

Peter cursed himself for coming off so insensitively; he was just frustrated by the whole situation. It wasn't Claire he was angry at, it was himself.

Letters tend to be at least a paragraph long; this was short and to the point, just like Claire and West's meeting. It read:

_Meet East at 5670 JF Kennedy Blvd. 3 a.m_. _Come alone. _

Puzzlement crossed Peter's thick eyebrows, "East?"

Claire rolled eyes and snatched the paper out of his hands, "East is a person obviously. And I assume West was just that guy's code name."

Peter nodded slowly, "What time should we leave?"

"We?" she chuckled, there no way was she letting him go this time. This meeting was way too important, she couldn't risk it. "Did you not see what it says," her finger traced under the words '_come alone_.'

"Yeah, I see but...,"

"No, you're not coming," She cut him off. "This is too important. I can't let you ruin it," and suddenly without warning she began to cry. It was something Claire wasn't expecting, they both weren't. Crying was totally alien to Claire these days but she couldn't stop herself. "I have been lonely for too long Peter." Claire whispered shaking her head at her candid attitude. She hadn't told anyone how she felt in so long; her tears still staining her perfect skin as she continued. "I have spent years in this place. Looking and searching for a way to not be so alone anymore. You have no idea what I'm going through Peter. So please, don't ruin this for me."

The soles of her shoes tapped on the floor as she stormed of the kitchen.

Peter sat still in the chair. She was wrong; true he didn't know exactly what was going on here but he knew what it was like to be alone. He knew that better than anyone. His eyes slowly closed and he let his head fall back for support on the chair.

Peter remembered fifteen years ago when he was first infected with the loneliness that had eaten away at him ever since. In fact, his current seclusion was his antidote for it.

_His face was buried in the gravel, rocks jammed in his cheek bones. Skin was ripping off of his fingernails and his back was burned from the blast. Attempting to move was pointless since his right leg was broken and trapped under a car. _

_His neck could barely support his head as he looked up from the gravel; Peter was helpless and the only thing he could reach up for support was the black smoke that still lingered in the area. Bleeding and aching in places he didn't even know existed Peter saw Sylar's black shoes walk by him, disregarding his body like a shark disregarding a carcass. The thickness of his bangs covered his right eye and the blood pouring from his forehead was streaming towards his left eye. Nevertheless, Peter painstakingly picked his upper body up to follow Sylar's path. He had to follow._

_Matt Parkman lay by the side of the ruined building and Peter helplessly watched Sylar approach him like a vulture._

_It was quickly executed; Sylar picked the dying police officer up with his telekinetic powers and slowly sliced his head open. As soon as Peter saw the blood pour from Officer Parkman's skull he snapped his eyes shut, the screaming his only indication of the horror._

_Peter's eye lids finally fought to open, unable to take what he'd be faced with as … the first thing they saw was Sylar's black leather shoes in front of his face. _

_Every bone in Peter's body became buoyant and his muscles weightless. _

_Peter's body floated into the air; Sylar wasted no time on an almost dying man._

_Peter's neck muscles felt like they were slowly being ripped apart due to Sylar's mental grasp. _

_He struggled for air and Sylar smiled sweetly. It was bone chilling to witness that at this exact moment Sylar seemed like a child innocently playing with a toy. Peter coughed a little as the blood from his face began to drain. He was ready to die at that moment; ready to give up and meet his brother again. His eyeballs rolled to his left where Nathan's body lay motionless and brainless. _

_Peter looked back to see that Sylar's happy expression changed to one of serious sadistic sarcasm. "X-marks the spot" he said coldly, sending a chill down Peter's spine and a burning sensation tearing through his cheek; branding him for life..._

The whites of Peter's eyes burnt open his eyelids and he found himself looking up at his old kitchen ceiling. His dry palms washed over his face; drying away the blood-spattered memories as Peter's breaths came out in rapid pants.

The chair telepathically retracted away from him as Peter stood and his muscles began to tense. There was no way he was letting her go alone. She might think she was alone in this world but she was far from that. She had him. Peter cracked his neck and shut his eyes; fixating his body on one emotion and a unified feeling of not being visible.

His body gelled and he disappeared.

Invisibility was his most trusted asset.

He was going to help Claire whether she liked it our not, without anyone knowing he was even there. He was going to help Claire get her remedy; she wasn't going to live the life he did. He wouldn't allow it because loneliness was a disease which could be treated if you caught it in time.

Peter knew he wasn't so lucky, his immune system was irreversibly damaged; he would always experience it, but Claire could be saved.

And he would be the one to save her - again.

It was now two in the morning and Peter had managed to catch up with Claire before she got on the subway. The whole time she traveled he stayed near her, Claire of course didn't feel his presence but there he stayed, by her side constantly protecting her from afar. That would never change not in any dimension.

At 2:45 they had made it to their location. It was an abandoned apartment building.

Peter walked in only a few feet behind Claire. It was pitch black outside so being at least inside could wash the eerie feeling away from him.

The gravel under their feet almost made him trip, fortunately Peter kept as quiet as possible.

Claire stood in the middle of the room in between rubble and old furniture. The place looked a mess. It smelled horrible to tell the truth. A mix of blood, dust, and body fluids seemed to be stained on the buildings walls.

Claire still stayed silent, patiently waiting for 'East'. The cracks in the walls and roof let strands of moonlight in to illuminate her; revealing her presence to any shadow prowlers nearby. Both of them waited patiently and what was only fifteen minutes seemed like years.

It was just two minutes to three and Peter decided it would be best to get as close to Claire as possible, but not too close.

He moved up to a nice pillar only a few inches away from where Claire was standing.

Maintaining his invisibility wasn't difficult but he didn't want to cause her any trouble if there was an accident and he was exposed.

A woman suddenly stepped out from the shadows and Peter quickly recognized her as Sarah Ellis former alias Eden McCain.

Peter could tell Claire was taken back by the surprising appearance. "What are you doing here?" Claire hissed at her, "Is this my father's idea of a sick joke?"

Sarah stayed entirely serious, "No, actually your father has no idea I'm here."

Claire took a step towards Sarah, "You're East?"

Sarah nodded and smirked, "What can I say East of Eden was always favorite book."

The sweat from Peter's palms left a handprint on the stone pillar he was hiding behind. He was anxious, he wasn't sure why but he knew something was going to happen; something big. It might have been the fact that he didn't fully trust Sarah Ellis or the simple fact Peter knew deep down in his bones that whatever was about to happen to Claire would have a profound effect on him also.

Sarah handed Claire another envelope, this one was larger then the last one. Claire took it without hesitation, "Why are you doing this?

"Because," Sarah smiled, "I'm a mother." Peter felt the tension in Claire's shoulders release and she bowed her head to look down at the envelope in her hand.

"Thank you."

Sarah smiled, "Don't thank me." The Haitian, who Peter remembered meeting at Claire's funeral emerged from the abyss of darkness behind Sarah.

"You...," Claire trailed off as soon as she saw him.

"He wasn't the one who informed me," Sarah kept smiling sweetly, "He was the one who convinced me to contact you. Pretty funny considering I'm the one with the power to persuade."

Claire was still clearly speechless, assuring Peter she too had known the Haitian.

"Find Claude," Sarah's expression altered to that of serious, "He's the one who found them."

Peter saw Claire nod her head, "I should have figured he was too chicken to come find me himself, even if it is family."

Peter knew Claude. Claude was his mentor back in the old days. He had traveled with him after the explosion; Claude was the reason Peter was able to get his head together even when all the while Claude's own head wasn't together.

Now Peter was even more certain he should be a part of this. All of the people involved with whatever was going on were part of something he wanted to contribute to. Peter was never one to run from his battles and this was one of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone. Hope you enjoy this-let me know what you think about the chapter. Hopefully chapter 5 should be up in a few days! **

**If you want to read this with pictures and music go here(without spaces): http:// ladybozi. livejournal. com/ 32695. html  
**

**CHAPTER 4**

Peter had walked out a few minutes before Claire had finished up with Sarah and the Haitian. The night was still strongly present when he came out. It was now three in the morning, give or take.   
Claire finally walked out, like a young widow walking out of a church. Peter maintained his invisibility and moved out of her way as she proceeded down the steps. Her face was strangely without feeling. She sat down on the last step, holding the envelope close to her.

The situation was quite unexplainable.

Peter sat five steps above her, still cloaked. He figured she was taking it in, what had been given to her. Whatever she had been looking for and desperately searching to find was finally at her finger tips. He understood that feeling of overpowering relief.

She had in a sense, after all these years, sat down to take a breather. He didn't see her face but he could tell the liberation was slowly sinking into her bones. The small amount of light given off by the streetlight touched her outline softy. However, his night vision seemed to pierce her body; she was vacant and hollow for these few moments. She was suspended in space, holding her breath with joy. 

Two hours later, both of them still sat soundless. Sunshine peaked over the buildings up ahead and its warmth hit their skin. Warming their blood, it shined and rose higher on it's backdrop of orange and purple.

When enough light was beating upon her face, Claire opened the envelope and read the message inside. 

Peter quietly stood up and waited for her next move.

Claire didn't turn around as she spoke, "Let's go."

This startled Peter since he wasn't even aware that she knew he was there the whole time.   
She turned to look at him, "Yes, I knew you were there the whole time Peter. Even inside I could tell you were there. Now let's go."

His body gelled and he became visible, "Why are you inviting me to go this time?"

"You can fly right?" She asked.

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I picked it up from my brother."

Claire smiled, "That's why."

Peter swooped down the few steps in front of him and stopped in front of the demanding blond, "I can do better then fly."

Claire's eyebrow rose, "Whatever, I just want to get to this address." She pointed to the paper and Peter saw the address.  
_  
10th Street and Constitution Avenue, NW Washington, DC 20560._

Peter knew exactly where that was. He held out his hand to Claire. She looked down at it and brought her hand up suspended above his. She looked him in the eyes not quite sure what he planned to do. Finally, in trustworthy unconsciousness she lay her hand down onto of his; skin to skin. The aged roughness that lay between his fingers scratched her silky palm. But Claire didn't notice she could only feel her cold hands warming in his; healing him.

"What are you going to do?"

Peter gave her a small smile, the wrinkles around his mouth enlarged, "Teleport." Claire shut her eyes so tight that her mascara smeared.

She could feel it in her muscles; the lightness. It was as if her breath wrapped through every tangent and carried her through space. She could feel Peter's warmth keeping her safe. If only for those few seconds in between the funnel of the hourglass she was whole and loved all at once. Her eyes were still shut; only movement she felt was that of deep, warm rivers of blood which raced up and down her body. 

"You can open your eyes." She did as he asked and found that she was looking up at him. She winced turning her head slightly to the right of her only to be met by the same sun on the rise she had left behind seconds ago. The hand that still held onto Peter slipped away from him and she gripped her coat feeling a slight breeze.

"It's the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History." Peter said confidently as he started towards the lengthy flight of stairs in front of them. Claire rushed up to meet his steady step.

Half of the museum was coated in black residue; it appeared as if a fire ripped through the windows. Even the parts that seemed unaffected by the blaze were in bad shape. It was no longer a grand opaque cream color as Peter remembered seeing years ago; instead there was a dark shade of grey on the walls making the building look like an old haunted plantation house. The sun still didn't illuminate the whole building but from what Peter could see its walls were forgotten long ago.

The six tall pillars holding up the front of the roof were cracking and tearing apart the groundwork. They didn't look even look strong enough to maintain the illusion that they were the roofs support. Peter looked up early enough so he could see the golden dome at the top of the building before he climbed too far on the steps. The gold was chipped off for the most part; Marjory due to the fact that there was a huge crack in it.

Claire was breathing heavily by the time she reached the final step. "Man I'm out of shape." She attempted to crack a joke but saw that Peter didn't even knowledge that she said anything. He was enamored once again with his surroundings. There were ghosts dancing back and forth between the broken pillars; swaying to the sun's rays as they finally reached all the way up to the front door.

He went up to the closest pillar and placed his hand on it. Closing his eyes to block out distraction and focusing on the buildings shape and material. Claire walked around to the column he was touching. She was about to speak but was quickly silenced when she noticed the pillar slightly move. Her feet swift pulled her back away from possible danger of the situation.

Peter kept his eyes closed while the palm of his right hand radiated heat that melted and reformed the post back to its full no fractured dignity. The rock face seemed to run like a river up and down, all the while the constant shape of the pillar remained. 

"Wow," Claire couldn't help but beam in disbelief, "Is there anything you can't do?" Peter slid his hand off of the pillar and smiled; she was warming up to him at last. 

Peter pushed open the door, thanks to some super strength from Niki and managed to clear a large bone which was blocking the entrance out of the way.

Claire started coughing as soon as they went inside. The dust ran up her nostrils and clouded her eyesight. "Wow," she swatted the dirt particles away from her face, "this is beyond saving."

The grandeur of the once amazing interior was destroyed. Black and grey hung on the walls like spider webs but the darkness that flew over the room couldn't disguise the magnitude of the architecture. 

They swayed and jumped over the littered floor filled with paper, burned dinosaur bones, and piles of ash. Claire kicked a half burned box off of a framed picture of a cave man.  
"My father used to take Nathan and me here every summer." Peter reminisced as he walked amongst burned historical artifacts that cluttered his path.

Claire stayed silent.

"It was the only time my father did anything with us." Peter smiled, "He would take us thru every exhibit." Peter rubbed his finger tips together, causing the ash on them to combine together and rub off.

Claire looked up beyond the back lobby doors; it looked as if there was an even bigger mess more inside of the building. "Maybe we should go check in the—" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide open in front of her.

"What is it?"

However, Claire didn't answer; she was still speechless and staring towards the same direction.

"Claire," Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, attempting to stabilize her mind process and jerk her back to reality, "What is it?" Her long eyelashes didn't flutter once as she began to scan the room, turning profusely. "Claire?" Peter followed her actions and inspected the area himself.

"I saw someone." She started breathing heavily, from both turning and fear. It was one thing to be indestructible but dark scary corners and monsters could shock anyone to death.

A group of papers flew up making a rustling sound causing both of them to turn to their right. Again, a box rattled on the other side of the room and both of their necks whipped to the left.

"Show yourself!" Peter ordered attempting to alarm whoever it was out of hiding.  
They waited a couple of seconds expecting more to occur but it was dead silent again. Peter leaned in to Claries ear and whispered, "I would suspect its Claude, but if it is him I would be able to see him." Claire looked up at him, ignorant to the fact that he was so close to her face. Their noses almost touching due to their close proximity, "No, I don't think it's him either."

_BOOM _

Their necks turned so fast towards the sound, that whoever made it would find it unfeasible to escape their eyes.

"Show yourself." Peter yelled with such force that he echoed all the way through the building and up to the dome on the top. His fists clenched as he walked towards the box which caused the bang when it landed. He looked around the corner and saw nothing. It was empty with no sign of human movement for years. Peter looked back at Claire and shrugged. She licked her lips as her eyes danced wonderment around the current situation. 

"It's impossible, there must be someone here we couldn't be alone."

While looking at Claire from across the room Peter saw a blurry wave pass in the background. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, maybe he was sleepy? Or maybe time travel and jumping through universes is finally affecting his mind.

Claire stood in the center and looked up; sunlight was finally coming through the crack at the dome. It rolled up shining and lighting up the room. The cobwebs seemed to melt away and the space appeared to expand. Everything that Claire didn't see before when she came in came alive. There were half burn paintings on the walls and even shavings of gold sprinkled on the floor, sparkling when the light surrounded it. Peter opened and closed his eyes, making sure his eyesight was okay. He walked toward Claire but stopped midway when he saw the blur again. It was quick and if it wasn't for his night vision, he never would have noticed it speeding through the shadows. Timing was very important, and he didn't want to alarm Claire so he did it quietly.

He began to count the milliseconds in between every time that the movement occurred.

_One… Two…Three…_

The blur of colors passed. Peter did it three more times and waited with his eyes closed.

_One …Two …Three …_ and froze his surroundings with ease. He opened his eyes to find Claire still in the middle of the room looking right up at the ceiling. He cautiously walked to the back and stopped right in front of his target.

It was a young boy, about fourteen, fifteen frozen in mid air. The youngster had a big smile showing his enjoyment even in mid leap. The strange thing was that he had a bright red cape which, when frozen heroically flung behind him, as if he was flying. After longer examination Peter finally figured it out, the child was in running position, it was hard to realize at first from the awkward position he had been frozen in.

Peter picked the young boy up and held him out in front of himself. "Okay kid lets see what the hell you think you're doing."

The young boy's legs began to frantically move as soon as Peter was able unfreeze everything. Quickly, the teenager realized what was going on: he wasn't moving. He was panic stricken and began to scream at the top of his lungs. Claire rushed over to Peter and the child, wide eyed in amazement.

"What are you doing to this kid?!" She sounded as if she was accusing him of something, which bothered Peter a lot. 

"Meet our boogieman." Peter smiled as the kid stopped fighting his super-strength hold on him.

"What?" Claire was ready to turn the kid on her knee and spank him, "You could have given me a heart attack!" The boy didn't respond he just kept his irritated and firm stare on Peter.

"Put me down!" The boy ordered calmly.

"Hey superman, keep it cool. We aren't the ones running around in a cape scaring the shit out of people. Now are we?" Peter scolded him and after seeing that the boy's heart rate had slowed he put him down on the ground again. 

The child was maybe five foot two, almost Claire height. Claire and Peter stood still side by side and the boy began to slowly encircle them; looking them up and down in inquiry.  
"What's your rank?"

The right side of Peter's lip shot up in confusion and his eyebrows scrunched, "huh?"

"First class. Neosapians." Claire answered diplomatically. Peter questionably looked at her. Wasn't everything supposed to be guarded? Wasn't that what she had been warning him about all along? Preaching that secrecy was imperative and letting anyone know more then they needed to know was pushing it.

"Yeah and we just landed from Mars." Peter added in smugly. He liked children; maybe if he should show Claire that side to him; perhaps she will begin to be more open with the idea of trusting him completely.

The young kid stopped in front of them again, "Right. I'm not two Mister you're just old. Now what the hell are you looking for?" 

"Hey!" Claire quibbled, "That is no way to talk to adults. What kind of language are your parents teaching you?"

The kid mocked her, "What kind of language are you blah … blah ..." Claire was horrified. "Look lady I don't have time for this, I'm a busy man with an extremely fast metabolism. I don't have time to waste."

"We're looking for someone." Peter finally said, offering some information in order to speed everything up. Claire nudged him in the ribs, giving him a look of pure death.

"Ah, and who would that be?" The kid was persistently inquisitive, so he waited with his arms crossed on his chest and with his foot tapping on the floor; like an adult would.

Claire and Peter exchanged looks of apprehension and just as Peter was about to answer another voice from afar echoed and silenced him.

"Matthew!"

The trio turned around towards the voice calling out.

"Oh no, it's my sister!" The boy, whose name the woman was clearly calling out, wasted no time speeding off.

"You can't hide from me Matthew; I know where you are remember?" She sounded irritated. "Matthew I swear I will-" She was about to give him a piece of her mind but upon seeing Peter and Claire she stopped dead silent in her tracks.

"Molly?" Peter immediately recognized his friend; it was the same Molly who made him his fortieth birthday cake, standing in front of him. One difference as far as he could tell was that this Molly had a more serious demeanor then his Molly.

Molly panicked picking up a short metal stick and placing it in front of her like a sword.  
"How do you know my name?" Her eyes were as big as marbles and it wasn't a secret that she was very frightened. Peter took a step frontward but she took a step back and got a better grip on the metal bar, "I'm warning you."

Peter used his telepathy and knocked the bar out of her hands; which in turn made her terrified even more, "Oh god." Molly back away, "Look, if you want something just take it and leave!"

Peter didn't answer her and advance towards her anyway. Molly was just about to scream out for help until she heard her brother's pubescent voice chuckling in the back of her. Her brother's laughter melted away the panic of the entire situation and she suddenly turned around and grabbed him by his collar.

"You little brat," she growled, "Did you put them up to this?" 

Matthew laughed even harder at his enraged sister's behavior. He snorted a couple of times and gripped his stomach, turning bright read with joy. Molly let go of his collar, and turned back towards Peter.

"I'm sorry sir, but if my brother put you up to this." She shot a look at her brother, "He needs to apologize for wasting your time with his stupid games!"

Peter smiled, "No he didn't put us up to it," he extended his hand towards Molly, "My name is Peter." 

Molly shook his hand and introduced herself, "Molly."

Claire walked up to them and also met Molly.

Right after introductions were made Peter asked, "We're looking for Claude. We were supposed to meet him here, but he's not here." 

Molly turned a quick shade of green, "Claude?" She took her brother by the hand, "Sorry, never heard of him before, maybe you guys came to the wrong place."

Just as Matthew was about to object Molly dug her nails into his hand and he let out a silent 'ouch.'

Molly tugged her brother away from Peter and Claire and started walking towards the hallway.

"Wait!"

Molly turned around as a determined Peter asked one last time, "I know you know where Claude is. Just let me know. We need his help; we don't want to do anything to cause trouble."

Molly disregarded his question and pulled her brother down the long corridor leading to the Egyptian exhibit.

Peter and Claire didn't follow.

"Quick, give me a map." Peter ordered Claire. She quickly went over to the front desk and found a Broacher with a map of the museum folded inside. Peter spread it open on the counter and closed his eyes with one finger ready on the paper.

"What are you doing?"

Peter smiled, "Molly is Clairvoyant." He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on Molly. The blackness of his eyelids lit up and he saw Molly and Matthew pass by the custodial room and down into the basement where they moved a cart of what looked like boxes and entered into a hole in the floor.

Claire waited patiently until Peter located her and opened his eyes.

"Come on." Peter headed right after the two youngsters, reliving Molly's every step.

Peter walked down to the basement, Claire in close proximity tightly gripping whatever she could find. The door at the top was left open and for a good twenty steps inside you could see enough to not trip and fall.

Peter's night vision hit the moment the light from the door disappeared and he noticed six steps down ahead of him.

"Give me your hand, we have some steps up ahead and its dark down you won't be able to see anything." Peter reached back and took her hand. Both of their heart beats sped up and jumped to their throats; the closeness still wasn't getting any easier. Nevertheless they descended down, hand in sweaty hand.

Claire yanked her hand away from Peter's as soon as she felt that there weren't anymore steps to go down. 

"I just have to find those boxes." Peter made sure to remember which pile of boxes Molly moved but being that they were in a room filled with nothing but boxes it was rather difficult. He felt that he was getting closer but the over stacked towers of boxes seemed to make a repeated pattern throughout the room.

It was like a marry-go-round in the basement. Peter kept spinning in circles around the towering boxes, not finding the entrance. Just as he was about to give up, he saw a red sticker on the bottom box of a mound of boxes. It was the same red sticker that he saw on the box Molly moved in his vision.

Surprisingly the boxes were light and he was able to move them with ease. He looked down the hole and saw a flight of stairs leading to a cement floor that reminded him of the bottom of a sewer. There was a bright light that shined from within the hole and lit up the stairs for a perfect view down. Peter quickly got Claire and they descended down.

It wasn't a quite a sewer, but it had a sewer like quality to it. The light that he saw from up top was due to the many lights that lip up cement pathway. The lights were aligned tangent to the wall and seemed to create a pathway which wrapped around a corner; only feet from where Peter and Claire stood.

They followed it without hesitation and went around the corner were they were lead to another turn. The whole passage was consumed by bricks that were stained by rust and fungi. They wore their unease on their sleeves as they moved like stealthy cats through the hall.

Claire didn't blink since she jumped down on the stone floor, she didn't want to miss something important or better yet get caught by surprise. Quickly Peter slammed Claire against the wall and used his body to cover hers. They meshed together and Peter turned them invisible. It was all just in time for two met to pass them by a second later. Tiny drops of sweat appeared on Claire temple as her blood boiled from Peter's body heat. They hadn't been so close before. When the two men disappeared around the corner Peter looked down at the panic stricken woman sandwiched between the wall and his chest.

"Did I hurt you?" He couldn't help but ask, after he had so violently slammed her against the bricks.

Claire shook her head, "No I'm fine." Peter could feel his palms begin to sweat as soon as he noticed Claire's breasts pushed up against him as if they were his own shirt. He quickly moved away from her and peaked around the corner. There was a length distance between them and what looked like a brightly lit, littered part of an alleyway. He wasn't sure what to make of it; he hadn't met anyone with supervision yet, so he assumed it was small settlement. He strained his ears and heard jumbled voices:

_I was wondering if I could buy that off of you?  
Mom I really want a dog!   
Doesn't this look good on me?   
Wait until we cook it.  
John, don't play with your food.  
We attack them this week. _

The last statement struck his ear, it wasn't hard to miss. A deep British accent, it was aged, but it there was no doubt about it.

"Claude's there."

Peter was slightly taken back as Claire ran off down the hall towards the opening. "Claire!" Peter attempted to reach her with a whisper but when it didn't grab her, he ran after her. 

He caught her just in time to slam her against the wall once again and turn them invisible.  
"Are you crazy?" They had stopped an inch before the gateway to the settlement.

"Claire, we don't know what this place is." He looked her dead in the eyes, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Without objection she griped Peters hand in hers. Peter lifted his body off of her and let her lead him beyond the opening.

It wasn't a sewer. It was so much more then what they were expecting to see. In front of them were families, people of all races and sizes running about. There were small houses placed near the edges of walls. The small buildings also created winding pathways throughout the underground place. Every structure looked as if it wasn't made to last; they were just small shelters.

Claire tugged Peter by the hand through the crowds that littered the pathways. This place was very much man-made; its walls were a beige, smooth stone. The lights that illuminated the whole space were hoisted up on the walls. As far as Peter could tell, the entire space must have had the same square footage as the museum. Meaning it could very well fit over eight hundred people; enough for a small army.

Peter and Claire broke through crowds and swiftly dogged everyone they could. Peter could feel the pressure of being in such high proximity of everyone. He felt a nose bleed coming on. It wasn't easy for him at this point; he knew any minute he would start getting massive migraines. 

The whole underground settlement seemed to operate like a small town. On their right was a small market place; A man was arguing with one of the food venders about a watermelon he was holding. The man held out the watermelon effortlessly turned it a dazzling ruby and melted it in his hands. The vender was silent only for a second and then he too turned red and started to yell at the buyer.

Peter and Claire quickly moved away from the commotion and bumped past other crowds of people who came running to see the argument.

"Peter, this place is full of Neosapinas!" Claire distraughtly whispered. They passed by two kids making an ice slide with their bare hands. Claire was right; all the people here were superhuman. Peter felt a shock to his stomach and jolt to his right temple. He hid it well, since so far Claire was too preoccupied with finding Claude that she didn't notice Peter's agony.

"Matthew hold still!" Both Claire and Peter heard Molly yelling out. They turned and saw her scrubbing her brother's face clean. 

They would have come up to her if they didn't see Claude walk past Molly and Matthew waving hello.

"There he is!" Peter was anxious to go up to his old guru, but the pain gripping his stomach was excruciating.

"Come on!" Claire excitedly pulled Peters hand to follow Claude. They hurried after Claude, who walked up to a group of men and women crowded around a map. Claire's fast paced walk sped up and she mechanically dragged a damaged Peter behind her.

Peter snaked his hand out of Claire's and like a wounded animal fell on the ground.

Claire's hair brushed across her face blocking her eyesight, as she spun to find Peter on the floor. Her nails quickly clawed her hair away and she sprawled down by Peter, picking her head up into her hands. "Peter?" she pleaded with his limp body, "Please, wake up Peter."

Peter opened his eyes and began to take in bottomless gasps of hoarse breaths. Claire couldn't help but smile thankfully, knowing he was okay. Her small arms attempted to drag his heavy body to a nearby carte to lean on. 

Peter summoned all his strength and managed to semi-crawl to the cart. Claire propped him against the cart and he gladly leaned, gripping his blazing upper body. 

Claire took Peters face in her hands and made sure his focus was on her. "Stay here, seeing you back from the dead and on the verge of dying might scare him." She attempted to make a joke, her alarmed voice didn't make it funny but Peter cracked a crooked smile anyway. His hands were still protectively over his chest muscles. Peter could tell Claire was panicked so he did his best not to pass out again.

Claire quickly retook her route and ran up to Claude from behind. The grey hood that rested between his shoulders was the easiest target so Claire dug her nails into it and yanked it.

Claude tumbled back and rolled around to face Claire.

"Claire?" Claude was choked by his shock.

"What the hell were you thinking Claude?" Claire spat out, deafeningly, making the men and women around pay attention.

Claude wanted to calm her before she made anyone else's attention veer towards them, "Look love, I was just trying to find the right time-" Before he could finish Claire slammed her rock hard fist in his nose. Claude's eyesight died for a split second and he could have sworn that his nose had split into two halves.

After spinning around for a bit, his dazed aftereffect finally wore off and he looked up, "Bloody hell Claire!" His vision centered and his first clear sight was Claire, rage stricken, with four guns pointed at her head. 

Claude chuckled menacingly, "Well, what do you know. I could very well blow your brains out and I doubt any one would…Wait a minute, how the hell did you get down here and past our two guards?"

"They went for a coffee break." Claire smiled cynically.

Claude listed his hands in irritation and looked at one of the men to his right, "Fantastic!" The guns swerved away from Claire's head as soon as Claude ordered. Claire marched up to him, extremely close.

"What is up your ass Claude?" She blustered, "Do you have any idea what I have been going through?"

The main group of people was still surrounding them, beguiled by the show going on.  
Claude placed two hands on Claire's shoulder, sincerely. "Listen to me sweetheart," Claire bended out of his clasp but Claude nevertheless went on, "I have my reasons." 

Claire stepped back to her original spot, about five feet away from him, "Are you kidding me? Your reasons, I'm sure they are nothing but selfish and worth me killing you over." Her rage was free at this point.

"I told you," Claude faked a smile at his friends, attempting to make nothing of the already complicated situation, "I had good reasons. But I understand how you feel."

Claire rolled her eyes, "Bullshit. You have no idea how I feel Claude. If you did you would have told me as soon as you found out."

Claude walked up to Claire, placed his hands on her shoulders and again attempted to be sincere, "I was just trying to find the right way to do it. I think if you were in my position you would have done the same thing."

Claire didn't get out of his hold on her shoulders, "No, I wouldn't. Peter is alive."

His hands, at once, let go of her shoulders and he backed away.

He took two steps back and almost at once felt his body get hooked on a fishing line of time, "Excuse me?" His legs began to inadvertently gel and disappear while the rest of him remained in plain sight.

"Yeah, he's right over by that cart." She motioned her back towards him.

"See, I react better in the same situation."


End file.
